


The Best Gift

by Tzu



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: AU, Adventure, Case-ish Fic, Friendship, M/M, Pre-Slash, Todd is a gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 04:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13139148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tzu/pseuds/Tzu
Summary: AU-ish. Set after the events of season one, which somehow unfolded without Todd’s help. Todd and Amanda share an apartment and she encountered their neighbor, Dirk Gently, a few weeks before Todd moved in.Amanda has decided it's time for the two of them to meet.





	The Best Gift

**Author's Note:**

> This story was created for the DGHDA Christmas Mini Bang, and I want to thank the people who devoted their time and energy to pulling this event together for us. 
> 
> I also want to thank the amazing marizetta, who created adorable artwork for which I am so grateful! It can be found here:  
> [The art!](http://polkadottedeyes.tumblr.com/post/168917473387/this-is-the-adorable-artwork-that-marizetta)

“Well?” asks Amanda, already impatient. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“I am,” Dirk agrees instantly, but he doesn’t move. His eyes remain locked on the cardboard box sitting in the center of his living room.

“Honestly,” Amanda huffs. “It’s not a bomb! Just open it.”

“It’s twitching.” Dirk’s frown deepens. “And there’s ventilation holes along the top, which makes me think… oh, Amanda.” 

“What?”

“It’s sweet of you to buy me a… a pet of whatever sort is in that box, but I already have a kitten. And also a shark, technically, which presents additional complications. And with all the cases I’m going to have soon I won’t have time to care for any more pets unless I were to hire an animal-care staff, which—”

“It’s not a pet, Dirk.”

“No?” His troubled mood morphs into curious delight. “Well then! I guess there’s no reason not to open it. Not that I wouldn’t love any pet you chose for me! It’s just that—”

The box stops twitching and begins rocking back and forth.

“Not very patient, is it?” Dirk pulls a tiny knife from his jacket pocket and drags it through criss-crossings of tape. “Well, the wait is over! Come on out and, um….”

He jumps back, blinking, as a disheveled young man with dark hair spits out a wadded-up handkerchief.

“Umm,” is all Dirk can manage, but that hardly matters because the man’s attention is focused solely on Amanda. His expression is one of outrage mixed with betrayal, but Amanda appears unconcerned. “What’s this, then?” 

“Your new friend,” Amanda replies, laughing, before addressing Dirk’s gift. “Oh, lighten up. You weren’t in there that long, and the Rowdies were pretty careful.”

“Pretty careful?” The words barely squeak through his sputtering. “They dropped me!”

Amanda rolls her eyes.

“Twice!”

Dirk takes advantage of her silence and steps forward, hand extended. “Hiiii! What do we have here? What is he, Amanda? I’m thinking a clue. Of course you brought me a clue, all nicely boxed up, that’s very like you in a way that’s… well, actually not much like you at all, now that I think about it.”

His hand is left hanging in the air, but the man’s attention swivels towards him, and a set of vibrant blue eyes meet his. “I’m not a, a clue,” he says. “I’m a person, or at least I was until my sister’s goons shoved me into this box and dragged me down a flight of stairs.” He winces, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’re so dramatic, Todd.” 

“Your brother?” Dirk frowns as he studies Todd, examining him from head to toe. “So probably not an accomplice, then. So…” He brightens. “An assistant! You brought me an assistant! Thank you, Amanda! This is the best non-Christmas not-my-birthday present that anyone has ever given me.”

“I’m not a present!” Todd snaps. “Not a present, or an accomplice, or an assistant, or anything else except a man who needs to get back to his own apartment.” He attempts to exit the box but his legs aren’t long enough to clear the cardboard walls, a fact that seems to make him even angrier.

Dirk extends his hand again, and this time the offer is accepted. Todd awkwardly lunges to freedom, narrowly avoiding a face-plant before Dirk steadies him. Once he’s standing on the carpet, he doesn’t seem to know what to do, so Dirk starts talking. 

“You came in a box. A box that was delivered to me with a bow on top. Yes, a bow!” He picks up the fallen decoration and shakes it like it’s some sort of proof. “I say that makes you a gift of sorts. I’m not sure why Amanda is giving me her brother in a box, but I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason.”

Amanda shrugs. “He hasn’t left our apartment since he moved in last week. I decided it was time for him to get out and meet some new people. Like I have,” she adds pointedly.

“I don’t want to meet new people,” Todd says. “And definitely not after being trapped in a box! I’m leaving now. Nice to meet you, Derek.”

“Dirk,” Dirk says. “Dirk Gently. Come back any time! I have a good feeling about this. Like we’re going to be fantastic friends.”

“Right,” Todd mutters on his way out.

“Well,” Amanda says, rising to her feet as the door slams. “That went okay, don’t you think?” She doesn’t wait for a reply. “And my brother’s cute, isn’t he? I wanted you to see him at his cutest…” Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “And he’s cutest when he’s angry.”

Dirk isn’t sure what to say to that.

“This way,” she continues, “you get to see just how adorable he is.”

“Aren’t you worried he’s going to be angry with you?”

Amanda smirks. “Naw, he always forgives me.” She takes the ribbon from Dirk’s hand and ties it around his wrist. “Happy non-Christmas not-your-birthday, Dirk. I’ll catch you again soon, kay?” With that, she’s gone, leaving Dirk with an empty box and a lot of questions.

—

He knows he should wait. He attempts to convince himself to wait several days because the universe isn’t compelling him to move forward, but that only works a few hours. It might not be the universe, but there’s a force pushing him to visit Amanda’s brother all the same. It’s irresistible. 

He manages to hold out a bit longer by baking a batch of muffins. Someone gifted him a basket of muffins when he moved into one of his previous flats, and clearly it’s time to return the favor. He didn’t have a charming basket, or any sort of wicker container for that matter, but he manages to scrounge up an old shoe box. No cute red-and-white checked handkerchief to line it with, but he makes do with a handful of paper towels. By the time he has the gift assembled, he’s convinced himself that it’s an impressive offering.

But no one answers when he rings the bell. 

“Todd,” he calls as he employs his fist against the door. Boom boom boom. “Todd, it’s Dirk! And I’ve brought treats! Open up, I know you’re here.”

No answer.

“I don’t mind waiting! If you need time to… to get dressed, or whatever it is you need to do. I have muffins, I can just sit and—”

The door creaks opens. A blurry-eyed Todd stares at him, frowning.

“Hiiii,” Dirk greets, delighted. He’s even more certain now that this is meant to be. “I mean, good morning! Or, I suppose, afternoon, but I’m a late riser and I take it you are too.” He doesn’t wait for a reply, instead shoving the shoe box at Todd’s chest. “These are your welcome to the neighborhood muffins. Apple cinnamon. I just made them.” He beams, not even attempting to keep the pride out of his voice.

“Uh.” Todd looks down at the box of muffins that he’s suddenly holding with both hands, frowning. “That’s, um—”

“Um?” 

“I mean, uh, thank you. For the muffins. They smell… good.”

“Oh, they are! Go ahead and try one, would you like me to make some tea to go with? I’ve always thought that muffins were an even better match for tea than biscuits.” He manages to shuffle his way into the living area while chattering. He’s about to go on about milk and sugar and the horrors of lemon polluting one’s cup, but the state of Todd’s flat momentarily silences him.

“I have coffee,” Todd says, offering no explanation for the jumbled belongings, broken furniture, spray painted walls, cracked windows, and torn pillows that litter his living area. “No tea though. Amanda and I don’t drink it, so…” He deposits the muffins on the kitchen counter.

Dirk forces his attention back to Todd. “Well, go ahead! I’d have one myself but I ate a lot of the batter while baking them. Well, technically, _before_ baking them. I know you’re not supposed to, salmonella and all of that, but would the universe really let me die such a boring death? Poisoned by a muffin? I think not.” He pauses for a beat. “Not that my muffins are poisoned. They’re fully cooked, so completely safe.”

Todd’s frown only deepens. He opens his mouth as if to reply, then seems to think better of it and shoves a muffin into his mouth instead. He chews a few times, attempts to swallow, then chews some more, his large eyes growing larger with each motion of his jaw. 

“Todd!? Are you okay? You aren’t choking, are you? Tell me you aren’t choking, because if you are I need to perform that maneuver, the one with the long name and it’s been a long time since I learned anything about first aid and—”

Todd shakes his head and holds up his hand. “I’m not choking. It’s just—” He grabs a random glass off the counter-top and takes a gulp. Coughs a few times, then gulps again. “What kind of muffins did you say these are?”

“Apple cinnamon! Well, _technically_ apple cinnamon. Only I didn’t have any apples in the flat so I had to improvise with squash. And I didn’t have any actual cinnamon either, but I _did_ have some cinnamon candy which is almost exactly the same thing as the recipe called for, so…” He pauses, feeling his smile fade. “They’re terrible, aren’t they?”

Todd clears his throat and set the rest of his muffin aside. “Not… terrible, exactly. Just… not what I was expecting, I guess. I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Dirk Gently!” Dirk hopes he doesn’t sound as indignant as he feels. “You just met me yesterday, don’t you remember?”

“No, I’d forgotten entirely,” comes the dry reply, chased by a twisting smile a few seconds later. “Look, my sister is… and her new friends are…” The smile fades. “Anyhow, can we just forget about the box thing? I don’t do things like that.”

“Already forgotten,” Dirk agrees. “So what sorts of things _do_ you do?”

Todd’s lips instantly tighten. “Not much.” His words are clipped, like he’s gearing up to ask Dirk to leave. “But anyhow, I should get back to, uh, doing what I normally do, so. Thanks for the muffins. That was really, uh, nice of you.”

“My pleasure,” Dirk replies brightly. “So Amanda — who is brilliant, by the way — said that you don’t leave your apartment. Why is that? Sorry if that’s a rude question, but if you don’t leave your apartment, it’s going to be difficult for you to assist me.”

“Assist… assist you?”

“As my assistant!” 

Todd looks baffled. 

“Oh, I guess Amanda forgot to tell you. I’m a detective! A _holistic_ detective. I’m about to start a new case, and you’re going to be my assistant.”

Todd is already shaking his head. “Look, I’m sorry, I don’t know what Amanda has told you about me, but I’m not going to be your assistant. I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to. I need to stay here.” 

“All the time?”

“Almost all the time.”

“How terribly dull.” Dirk heaves a theatrical sigh. “ _Why_ do you have to stay here all the time? If you don’t mind me saying so, if I was going to stay in one place all the time, I’d pick a place less…” He glances around again. “…messy? And with fewer broken things.”

Todd’s eyes narrow. “I do mind you asking, actually. It’s… personal. Besides, didn’t you just say you’re a detective?”

“Yes?” Dirk is puzzled by the question for second before it clicks. “Oh! You want a _performance_ where I look around and deduce what keeps you trapped here.” He lets his smile slip away. “Sorry, I’m not that sort of detective. The sort who does research and taps phone lines and finds clues and so on.”

Todd gives a short bark of laughter. “What, so you’re a _bad_ detective?”

Dirk recoils, offended. “No, a _holistic_ detective, haven’t you been listening at all?” With a sigh, he continues. “I’m guided by the universe, which tells me where to go and causes things to fall into place around me. It has to do with the interconnectedness of all things, and even things that really shouldn’t connect tend to do so around me.”

“Ah.” Todd finishes whatever he was drinking and sets the glass down. “So you’re crazy.” He laughs again, a laugh without much humor in it. 

“I’m not crazy! Well, maybe a bit here and there, momentary lapses, but for the most part you’ll find that I’m an amazingly well-adjusted person, especially considering the circumstances.”

“Uh huh. So do you make a living with this… this holistic business?”

Dirk hesitates, and Todd’s sardonic smile returns.

“I’ve solved cases! Well, a case. Well, part of a case. But it was complicated! And made all the more difficult due to my lack of an assistant, which fortunately has been resolved now.”

“No,” Todd tells him, firm but not unkind. And just as firmly, he takes Dirk’s elbow and steers him to the door. “I’m not your assistant. I’m not anything. Goodbye now.”

With that, Dirk finds himself standing alone in the hallway as the door closes behind him.

—

He makes himself wait three whole days before returning.

He promises himself he’ll wait a week, but impatient as he is, he considers three days a not-bad compromise. Of course he’s busy most of that time, having started on a case and being bereft of an assistant when an assistant would be _most_ useful. When he limps up to Todd and Amanda’s apartment, he’s at least no longer bleeding — not that a few drops of blood would be out of place in their flat.

Amanda opens the door and grins at him, a grin that dissolves as she takes in his disheveled appearance. “Holy shit, dude! What happened to you?”

Dirk staggers inside, exaggerating just the tiniest of bits. “Have I ever spoken to you about the importance of backup? I probably did, back when you were helping me with the Lydia Spring thing, but it’s really a matter that can’t be overstated. You think you have everything under control, everything running smoothly, and them bam! Someone bashes you over the head from behind and it’s lights out. So embarrassing. Anyway, is Todd home?”

Amanda looks like she wants to ask questions, but after a second of hesitation she spins around. “Todd!” she bellows towards the hallway. “You’ve got company! Get your ass out here!”

When there’s no immediate response she looks back with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. He’s like this sometimes. Please don’t hold it against him, it’s because he’s sick and—”

“Amanda!”

Todd materializes seemingly from nowhere to glare at his sister.

“What? Does HIPAA apply here?”

After an odd moment of tension, Todd drops his gaze. “Look, I just don’t want my private stuff being casual conversation…” He finally sees who the guest is and recoils. “You’re back?”

“I am,” Dirk confirms. “And I have an update on our case!”

“Our case?”

“Yes. What, do you think I’m selfish enough to hoard all the fun for myself? Not to mention all the gold.”

“The gold?” Amanda and Todd echo at the same time, in almost exactly the same tone. 

Dirk grins. “Yes, the gold! An entire pot filled with it, and all we have to do is find it. Well and then return it, but I’m sure we’ll be keeping some of it for ourselves. Or at the very least we’ll be given some sort of monetary compensation.”

There’s a moment of silence before Todd speaks. “Your case is about a, a missing pot of gold?”

“Fascinating, isn’t it? Gold is a valuable commodity in all cultures, or so I’ve been told, and to lose an entire pot of it, well, that would certainly be upsetting. Our client would very much like his pot returned—”

He pauses briefly as Amanda giggles.

“—with the gold intact, if at all possible.”

Todd is staring at him with an odd expression. “So you were hired by a… by a leprechaun?”

“Very funny, Todd, leprechauns don’t exist. Or at least I’ve never met one, much less been hired by one.”

Todd and Amanda exchange a glance before Todd responds. “Okay. So you were hired by a totally normal guy who just wants you to find his missing pot of gold.”

“Exactly! I’m glad we’re on the same page now. Where would you suggest we start looking?”

Amanda giggles again.

Todd eyes his sister with a fond expression. “I don’t know, Drake. You’re the detective here, right?” 

Dirk opens his mouth to correct his name, but Amanda jumps in before he can form the words.

“I’d start waiting for sun breaks after rainy days, then check the ends of rainbows. I mean, duh.”

“Yeah, that,” Todd agrees. “Except that it rarely stops raining in the winter, so you’re in for a long wait. How soon does this client of yours need his gold?”

“As soon as possible,” Dirk sighs with a long glance out the window. They have a point; it’s been drizzling for weeks and he can’t remember the last time he saw the sun. “It’s actually the pot he’s more interested in, apparently the gold will return once he has his pot back.”

Amanda dips her head, laughing again. 

Todd shoots her a grin before returning his attention to Dirk. “Um, no offense, but are you sure your client is, well, sane?”

“He seems completely sane to me.”

A smile flickers across Todd’s face. “Again, uh, no offense, but I’m not sure you’re the best judge of that.” He takes a second to study Dirk’s expression before continuing. “I mean, you accepted a job from a leprechaun to find a missing pot of gold! Sorry, but that doesn’t exactly scream ‘stellar mental health’ to my ears. Not that stellar mental health is a requirement or anything. Just, um…”

Dirk feels his lips flatten into a line. “Maybe he’s not a leprechaun, but a man who _thinks_ he’s a leprechaun. It doesn’t matter, because he’s a client and he needs my help.” He inches a bit closer. “If you were a detective, where would you start?”

Todd shrugs. “I’m not a detective, you are, but… I guess I’d start looking in the last place he saw it.” He pauses for a beat. “You _did_ ask him where he last saw it, right?”

“Of course I did!” Dirk hesitates. “Well, I mean, I was going to ask him that. Then I got distracted, and he had some customers arrive, and then I decided it was probably time to start searching. So I came here to give you an update.”

“Thanks for that,” Todd says in a tone that’s just slightly too dry for Dirk’s taste. “It sounds like you know what to do next then, right? Go talk to Leppie, ask him where he last saw his, uh, gold, then go look there. See if you can spot footprints or tire tracks or something along those lines. You know — find _clues_.”

“Oh well I’m not actually the sort of detective who—” He cuts himself off at Todd’s irritated expression and slows his speech. “Actually, now that you mention it, those are pretty good ideas. You wait here, and I’ll come back once I’ve found some.”

Todd’s smile is just shy of a smirk. “Great plan,” he agrees, nudging Dirk in the direction of the door and opening it wide. “You go have fun.”

—

He returns two days later, damp and cold.

This time Todd opens the door, looking pale and disheveled and not entirely pleased to have company. “Oh.” His lips twitch. “Sorry, I thought you were Amanda. She…” he trails away, “…why are you all scratched up? And your lips are blue.”

“My t-t-t-teeth are chattering, too,” Dirk adds as he steps inside. It isn’t much warmer inside the flat than it was outside, but at least it’s dry. “Does it ever stop raining here? I had an umbrella, but a sideways wind turned it inside-out and I was miles from the car and my feet got soaked, too.” He sniffles, feeling even more miserable as he recites his list of sufferings. 

“That’s November in Seattle for you.” Todd is looking at him with a combination of sympathy and concern, which lifts Dirk’s spirits a bit. “Look, I’m sorry I suggested you go looking for a rainbow this time of the year. We probably won’t be seeing the sun for another four months, which might make your case kind of challenging.”

Dirk sniffles some more, and Todd frowns. “Come sit down,” he says, shifting a pile of records and books from the couch to the floor. “Do you want some coffee? I made it this morning, but I can microwave it— actually, strike that, our microwave died. I can make some new coffee or—”

“Tea, if you bought some,” Dirk replies, clutching at the blanket Todd drapes around his shoulders. “Or just hot water if you don’t. I have an excellent imagination. Did you know that imagining a thing is almost as good as having that thing? Psychologically speaking, I mean. Or at least that’s what the CIA used to tell me, back when they had a psychiatrist-type talking to me.”

“Mm,” Todd replies, knocking various objects around in the kitchen. “I think Amanda picked some up the other day. Anyhow, did you find any clues? Learn anything new?”

“Yes!” He pulls the blanket more tightly around himself. “Mr Sean O’Ryan crafts some of the most exquisite custom-made shoes in the entire pacific northwest. He has a wait list for new clients, but I _just happened_ to arrive as someone with my exact size was canceling an order and he agreed to sell them to me instead. Isn’t that incredible? Half off, he offered! They’re the most perfect shade of—”

“—Dirk.”

“Hmm? Oh, great job getting my name right this time, Todd! I think we’re really making progress with our friendship.”

Todd sighs. “I meant, did you learn anything about your case? Any clues, leads, that sort of thing?”

“Oh, yes.” He watches Todd for a moment, admiring the way he navigates the messy kitchen to locate tea bags and a chipped mug. “He told me that he hasn’t actually seen his pot in years. A source of considerable distress for him, apparently, enough to drive a man to drink.”

There’s a bit of silence as Todd finishes his task. When he returns to the living room, he passes a warm mug into Dirk’s hands and sits in a nearby chair. “So you have nothing to go on? It’s, what do you call it, a cold case?” He sounds surprisingly disappointed.

“A cold case?” Dirk wraps both hands around the cup and leans closer to Todd. “Well, I was certainly cold while out investigating, but the case is alive and well! In fact it’s better this way, with him having no idea where it could be, because well, if the pot’s owner has no idea where it might have gotten off to, then it’s not likely he’s inadvertently let anything slip, right?”

Todd stares, clearly lost.

“Thieves Todd, thieves! Just think how many people would be hunting his pot of gold if he were going about telling everyone where it might be found. This is how I work best, anyhow. I go to where the universe puts me, and almost always, there’s where I’m meant to be.”

Todd doesn’t look any more enlightened.

Dirk tries again. “The universe _wants_ me to solve these cases. So it leads me to where I should be. Like this afternoon. I decided to follow your rainbow-hunting advice, not that there was any sun or any hint of a rainbow, so I went looking for a place where a rainbow might appear if the sun were around. I found a lovely meadow, a creek, and a gloomy forest.”

“But no pots of gold?”

“Well… no. Actually locating it might be a bit of a challenge. There’s a great many places in Seattle where a rainbow _might_ spring up.”

Todd arches his brows. “So let me get this straight. The shoe maker with an Irish-sounding name and a missing pot of gold has zero leads for you, no idea where you should even start?”

“Yes, exactly!”

Todd sighs and rubs at his shadowed eyes. “You know what? I say screw the pot of gold. Capture Leppie and demand that he give you some wishes. Wish for a pot of gold. Hand it over, and your case is solved.”

Dirk blinks, then beams at his fantastic new assistant. “Great idea, Todd!” A beat. “But unfortunately, Mr O’Ryan isn’t a leprechaun and therefore can’t grant us any wishes.”

Todd gives a one-shouldered shrug. “How do you know, until you capture him and demand wishes?”

He has to admit, Todd has a point. But still. “Leprechauns don’t exist. They aren’t real.”

“Neither are holistic detectives who solve cases without clues, background checks, investigations, or research. But here you are, drinking tea on my couch.”

Dirk rears back, offended. “I can assure you, I am _very_ real. All _too_ real, some have said. Besides, there’s nothing supernatural about holistic detection. It’s a real thing, based on the interconnectedness of all things. I don’t need clues or research or the rest of that, I simply go where the universe tells me I need to be and most of the time, that works. Or it works-ish.”

Todd remains silent, but his expression speaks volumes. 

Dirk sighs and takes a long sip of his tea, which tastes like crushed flowers mixed with mint gum. Vile, but he decides his potential best friend doesn’t need to know. “I guess the only way you could know for sure is to meet him yourself.” He pauses briefly, then brightens. “I know! You can come with me. To meet him. And decide for yourself if he’s a client, a madman, or a figure from an Irish fairy tale.”

Todd is already shaking his head before Dirk can finish. “I can’t go anywhere. Sorry. Like Amanda mentioned last time you were here, I’m sick.”

Dirk feels his stomach sink. “Is it…” he pauses to clear his throat, which threatens to close up, “…cancer?”

“What?” Todd gives a quick shake of his head. “No, no, nothing like that. It’s a… a genetic condition. It runs in my family. It’s called pararibulitus, a nerve disorder that tricks my mind into thinking horrible things are happening.” Off Dirk’s confused expression, he continues with a touch of impatience. “Like… if I were holding that coffee cup, I might suddenly think it’s as hot as lava and suffer third-degree burns. I really feel the pain, and for me it’s really happening, but for everyone else I just look insane.”

“That’s… terrible,” Dirk replies, still feeling a bit ill. “But fascinating, too! I’ve never heard of anything like—” he cuts himself short as Todd’s expression darkens. “I mean, it must be awful for you. So if you stay here all the time, it doesn’t happen?”

“What?” Todd is looking at him like he’s an idiot. “Of course not. This apartment doesn’t have any disease-negating magic. It can and does happen everywhere.”

It’s Dirk’s turn to frown. “But… if it can happen anywhere, why _not_ go out?”

Todd abruptly stands up and walks a few paces. He’s silent so long that Dirk fears he might not answer, but finally he turns back with an unsettled look. “Because when it happens out there,” he motions towards the window, “people are shitty. I’ve never had anyone help me. They point, they laugh, they step over me. And a few years ago, someone pulled out their phone, recorded my episode, then put it on you-tube for their friends to laugh at.”

Dirk is speechless.

“Then it went viral. I was famous.” His laugh is sharp and bitter. “I’m actually surprised you didn’t recognize me because for a while, it seemed like _everyone_ had seen it. The crazy drug addict losing his mind on the sidewalk.” He turns around again and stares out the window. “My parents had to hire lawyers before they agreed to take it down, and the lawsuit pretty much wiped them out. But like they say, the Internet is forever.”

Dirk shakes his head. “I’m, I’m so sorry that happened to you. And your parents. That’s terrible.”

“So that’s why I mostly stay home.”

Dirk continues shaking his head. “I understand, but it’s not right.”

“You can’t possibly understand,” he counters flatly. “And ‘right’ has nothing to do with it. It’s just how it is.”

Dirk considers that before responding. “What if I could stop people from doing anything like that?”

“What, with your holistic magic skills?”

Dirk rolls his eyes. “I don’t have magic powers, that’s silly. But I was trained as an ultimate fighting machine by the CIA!”

Todd stares.

Dirk sighs. “Okay, that’s a lie. But I _do_ have impressive phone-snatching skills, and I wouldn’t let anyone do that to you again.”

To his surprise, Todd gives him a slight smile.

“So what do you say? Just a quick trip out. To the shop and back again. You can tell me what you think of Mr O’Ryan’s potential leprechaun-ish-ness, and maybe we’ll stumble into the right place on the way there. That’s a thing that happens to me sometimes. Often-times, even, although I _do_ occasionally stray into the wrong place and wind up in terrible danger.”

Todd opens his mouth to say no, and Dirk cuts him off before he has a chance.

“ _Besides_ , your sister seems to think that you leaving this flat would be good for you.”

Todd closes his mouth, opens it again, and shakes his head. “Y— no… well, Amanda worries that I’m lonely. I’m not, but with her having two jobs and being in a band and having a bunch of freaky new friends, I don’t see her much anymore. But I’m fine.”

Dirk cocks his head to one side, electing to remain silent this time.

Todd sighs. “Maybe it won’t hurt to leave for a short time. I’ll… get my pills.” He returns a few minutes later wearing a rather spiffy-looking jacket and carrying a large bottle of medication in one hand. He holds it up and gives it a shake. “If I fall to the ground, start screaming, that sort of thing? You need to give me two of these. Cram them down my throat if you have to.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Dirk replies, frowning. He attempts to envision that scene — Todd on the ground, convulsing and screaming, himself fumbling with a child-proof bottle and… well, it’s not a thing he wants to dwell on. “Let’s go,” he says instead, summoning forth his widest and brightest smile. “This is going to be such fun!”

— 

First they stop at Dirk’s flat for a change of clothes. It takes longer than planned, because changing his trousers and shirt necessitates a different jacket, and he has to try on all of them before deciding which is the right jacket for one’s first outing with one’s potential future best friend. 

The friend in question, meanwhile, taps his foot impatiently the entire time.

When they arrive at O’Ryan’s Quality Shoes, they’re unpleasantly surprised by a “Closed” sign on the front door, in spite of it being only mid-afternoon. 

“That’s odd.” Dirk presses his face to the glass and attempts to peer through the window, but it’s dark inside.

“So’s this,” Todd said, indicating a stack of deliveries with his foot. “I’m surprised his vendors would just leave stuff sitting out here. This isn’t exactly the best neighborhood.”

Dirk scoops up the packages, joggling them together into an awkward forward-arching stack. “We’ll take them back with us,” he announces. “Keep them safe until he opens tomorrow. At least I _hope_ he’ll be opening tomorrow. You don’t suppose…”

“Suppose what?”

“Well, what if someone else decided that he might be a real actual leprechaun? And they decided to capture him in order to extort those wishes you were talking about, and now our case has evolved from a missing pot of gold to a missing pot of gold _and_ a missing small Irish man?”

“Just how small is this guy?”

Dirk opens his mouth to compare O’Ryan’s height to Todd’s, but thinks better of it. “Maybe a bit shorter than average,” he says. “Well, possibly quite a bit shorter than average. Perhaps…” He holds a hand around mid-chest-level. “Five foot… two? And he was wearing boots. _Amazing_ boots, actually, the stitching was simply—”

“Dirk, _focus._ ”

“Yes, sorry! Anyhow, are you sure we should take them? He’s probably got security cameras out here, and taking the boxes away looks a lot like stealing them.”

Dirk looks up and scans the roof, but sees nothing resembling a camera. “I imagine solving our case would be much more difficult if we had to do it from behind bars,” he agrees, but then his eyes catch something else. “Oh,” he says. “Oh!”

“Oh?”

“Yes!” He drops the two larger packages and waves the smallest in Todd’s face. “These boxes! They don’t belong to Mr O’Ryan at all! This is the wrong address. Let’s take them where they belong! I bet we’ll find something important there. Maybe even the pot of gold!”

Todd looks dubious, but after comparing the address on the labels to the storefront he gives a shrug. “That’s a little strange. Well, that isn’t far from here, so we might as well do it as a good deed. Give me your keys.”

Dirk has already dropped them into Todd’s outstretched hand before he thinks to question why.

“You’re a terrible driver. What, did you not notice the three red lights you blew through, or the pedestrian you almost hit, or the curb that you did hit?”

Dirk makes a raspberry sound and waves a hand airily. “Honestly Todd, if you’re going to be my assistant, you’ve got to learn how to relax and trust. The universe isn’t going to let me come to any harm while doing something as ordinary as driving, especially not while I’m on a case.”

Nevertheless, he climbs into the passenger’s seat without further protest. 

—

The correct address is only a few miles away, but the area feels far more foreboding. Trash blows through the street, alleyways are draped in long shadows, and even the air smells different. Thicker, staler.

Todd, already proving himself an excellent assistant, seems to notice. “Maybe we should just drop these off and go,” he says, eyes on the gloomy house. The address is clearly visible, but it doesn’t appear to be a business, just a residence with peeling paint and a set of stairs that look somewhat less than trustworthy.

“And miss seeing whatever or whoever is inside?” Dirk does his best to sound cheerful and confident, but there’s nothing encouraging about this place. The porch light is broken, and he can’t make out any illumination from within, either. “This has to be important, and besides. We’re already here. And we have packages! Who doesn’t welcome people who show up bearing gifts?”

“Crazy people? Violent people? Deranged shut-ins? Homicidal leprechaun kidnappers?” Todd continues rhyming off increasingly bleak possibilities, but he’s picked up his share of the boxes while exiting the car. “I say we ring the bell once, and if no one comes to the door, we leave their packages and go home.”

“Yes, absolutely,” Dirk agrees, bounding up the stairs two at a time and ignoring the way each step gives slightly beneath his weight. “We’ll just ring the bell and see…” He frowns at the sight of the doorbell, which has been ripped away, leaving nothing but a mess of exposed wires dangling from the wall. He has to admit that Todd’s theory about shut-ins might have something to it. 

Nevertheless, he knocks. “Hellllllllo,” he calls, lest anyone mistake him for being less-than-friendly. “We have your deliveries, and—”

The door slams open, and a monster glares at him.

No, wait. Not a monster. Just a poorly-groomed young woman, her hair caught between frizz and dreadlocks, her face smudged with what he hopes is dirt, her clothing seemingly selected at random and assembled in the dark.

“What do you want?” she demands, her voice a guttural snarl.

Dirk is momentarily taken back, but forces his most cheerful smile. “Hiii! I’m Dirk Gently, and this is my friend Todd, and we found your packages, so we brought them here.” He thrusts the one he’s holding forward as proof.

She barely glances at it before her attention locks on to Todd. She blinks, lifts an arm, points a filthy-nailed finger, and releases a long keening wail.

“What—”

“Why—”

Her volume increases until she’s doing a great impression of a siren. A _psychotic_ siren.

“Please, stop that,” Todd says, stepping slightly forward and holding out his hands as if they could fend off the auditory assault.

“Really,” Dirk agrees, attempting to keep his voice level. “There’s no need for, I mean, _why_ are you doing that, it’s most upsetting, please stop screaming and just use your words!”

The woman gives him a dirty look. “I have to,” she says, as if explaining the most obvious thing in the universe to a complete idiot. “I’m a banshee. And you—” She points at Todd again, “or someone close to you, is gonna die. This is me telling you. And, you know, sorry ‘bout that.” 

Her awful screeching picks up right where she left off.

The blood drains from Todd’s face.

Dirk drops the box he’s holding and steps between the woman and Todd. “We consider ourselves warned,” he says with as much volume as he can manage. “Really! We understand. There’s no need to keep doing that. Now if you have any _useful_ information…”

She allows her shriek to taper into a low wail before finally lowering her arm and looking at Dirk, puzzled. “This is useful. Most people wanna know. Or actually, I guess most people _don’t_ wanna know, but it sure gets their attention.”

Todd steps forward, still pale and shaken. “Wait. Or this a prediction, or just a warning?”

Her frazzled mop-top cocks to one side. “A prediction, mostly. Although I suppose it could be a warning. It’s not like I follow up on the deaths I predict! I just do my thing and then move on. I guess some of them mighta been saved. The universe can be weird like that, and it doesn’t exactly mail me reports.”

Todd shoots him an anguished look. “What if it’s Amanda?”

Dirk scoffs, but that was his first thought as well. Mostly because the thought of Todd dying is unthinkable. “Amanda? Not a chance. She’s too tough, and smart, and besides, she’s working at the coffee shop this afternoon, right? Not a lot of dangers there, unless she encounters some sort of possessed demonic milk-steamer from beyond.”

That thought doesn’t seem to give Todd much comfort. He fumbles his phone from his jacket pocket and begins frantically pushing buttons. The banshee, meanwhile, raises her finger again.

“Oh no,” Dirk says, pushing her finger back down with the flat of his hand. “We understand. Fully and completely. No need to keep doing that… that thing that you do.”

She pulls away with a snarl, but fortunately doesn’t start wailing again. A good thing, since Todd is having a rather frantic conversation on his mobile. “Banshee thing,” she clarifies, glaring. “And don’t ever try’n touch me again if you wanna keep all your parts.”

Dirk holds up both hands and takes a careful step back. “So we’ll be on our way then,” he announces with as much cheer as he can muster. “Thanks for the, ah, warning, and should anything strange or unexpected come your way, here’s my card.” He carefully places it on top of the packages before joining Todd in the car.

—

Amanda is missing.

That’s bad. Amanda is missing, and with each failed attempt to locate her, Todd grows more agitated.

“You called both of her employers,” Dirk prompts, which only earns him a dark glance.

“Twice.”

“And left a message on her mobile?”

“A dozen. At least.”

“Called her band-mates?”

“They aren’t answering either. Not that they usually take my calls. Here, hand me your phone.”

Dirk passes it over and watches while Todd punches in a number, waits, swears, then tries again. And again. 

“Okay,” he says at last, his voice tense. “Okay, she’s not anywhere she’s supposed to be, but at least I’m with a detective.” Worried eyes meet his. “You know how to find missing people, right? I mean, as part of your detective thing.”

“ _Holistic_ detective thing,” Dirk clarifies in a voice that comes out sounding rather small. He can’t bear the distressed look on Todd’s face, so he puts on his most confident expression and sits up tall. “I mean, of course I know how to find missing people. That’s what we were doing with Mr O’Ryan, right? Granted we haven’t found him yet, but we’ll circle back to that. Amanda first!” He pauses for a beat. “Let’s start by going home.”

“What?” From his expression, you’d have guessed Dirk suggested they begin at the morgue. “If she’s in danger, she wouldn’t be at our apartment.”

“Well, statistically speaking, one’s home _is_ the most dangerous place, at least as far as accidents and mishaps—” Off Todd’s murderous expression, he changes tactics. “I mean, what if she left work because she wasn’t feeling well and her phone isn’t near her? Or charged? We should check.”

Todd considers that. “Just to rule it out,” he agrees. 

—

They rule it out within minutes. Todd charges through every room, then re-checks them all, even looking behind the shower curtain and peeking inside the closets.

“Okay, she’s not here. Now what?”

Dirk hopes his smile is convincing. “Well, I don’t exactly know, but I know where she isn’t, so that’s a good start!”

Todd stares. “No it isn’t. This is no start at all. We just… came home.”

“I guess we should go back out and drive around. We’ll see something, and that will lead us somewhere else, and then almost certainly—”

“Screw this. I’m calling the cops.”

Dirk flops into the couch and listens uneasily as Todd is bounced from person to person, then flips through a few tattered books as Todd sputters at someone who seems less than alarmed by Todd’s report. 

When Todd finally finishes, his entire body slumps forward.

“Well?”

“They said an adult woman being gone for a few hours isn’t really a missing person case. That unless I have evidence she’s in some sort of danger, I just need to wait for her to come home.” He sighs. “Do you think I should have mentioned the crazy banshee woman?”

Dirk’s expression apparently says everything, because Todd sighs his agreement. “Yeah. I’d probably wind up on some sort of list. The cop clearly thought I was nuts.”

“Well,” Dirk says, selecting his words delicately, “She _is_ an adult, an entirely capable adult I might add, and screaming mud banshee aside, we don’t have any reason to think she’s actually in danger. The odds are good that she’s out somewhere having a fantastic adventure!”

Todd appears unconvinced.

“Do you really believe that woman is a real-life banshee, and that your sister is in terrible danger because she was wailing at you?”

Todd considers the question, then shakes his head. “No. Yes? Maybe. I’m not sure. It’s just that… well, I need Amanda.”

“Well yes of course, she’s your sister…”

Todd shakes his head again. “No, I mean, she takes care of me.” He looks away, a flush creeping up his neck and coloring his cheeks a delicate shade of pink.

Dirk moves a little closer and places a hand on Todd’s arm, hoping it doesn’t seem awkward. “Well, on the infinitesimally tiny chance that she doesn’t come back, I’ll take care of you.”

“What?” Todd stares up at him with an expression Dirk hasn’t seen before. 

Dirk continues to smile in a way he hopes is reassuring. “Because you’re my friend,” he continues in even tones. “That’s what friends do, right? They look out for each other. Take care of each other. _Help_ each other.” He draws in a breath. “And I’ll start by finding your sister!”

Todd’s smile is caught somewhere between wry and grateful, and he blinks a few times before speaking. “Yes,” he agrees, his voice a little shaky. “That would be a great way to help me. Let’s get started doing that thing that you do. Whatever that is.”

—

Todd seems less than delighted that the thing Dirk does involves getting back into the car and driving. He’s already bracing himself, white-knuckled against the dashboard, before Dirk even has his first near-miss with another vehicle. 

“I don’t get why I can’t drive,” he grits out, eyes squeezed shut.

“Because it works better when I’m the one in control, as it were. Allowing the universe to guide me. You don’t have to be so _tense_ , Todd. Now where is that pub she enjoys so much?”

They stop at Amanda’s favorite hangouts, a coffee shop, a club, and even a tattoo parlor, but not only is Amanda not there, but no one present has seen her. When they manage to get booted from a bar as “probable stalking assholes,” Todd decides that he’s had enough.

“Maybe somewhere out of the city?” Dirk suggests as he tosses the keys over to Todd. Todd slides into the driver’s seat without questions. “I have a good feeling about leaving the city, and not just because we’re less likely to have anyone call emergency services if we’re in an area with less people.”

“I don’t know…” Todd pulls into traffic with exaggerated care that Dirk can’t help but think is pointed. “Amanda’s not really a one-with-nature sort… except.” He glances at Dirk before returning his full attention to the road. “There’s a park not far from here where we used to hang out. Well, not really a park so much as a nature reserve. We used to go hiking there.”

“Used to?”

Todd keeps his eyes fixed ahead. “Before I got sick,” he answers eventually. “That changed a lot of things. All of the things, really.” He drives in silence for a few minutes before continuing, “But it’s getting late.”

Dirk offers a bright smile. “No worries! I have a torch in the back.”

Todd frowns. “Dirk, we aren’t _burning down the park_.”

Dirk is puzzled for a few seconds before it clicks. He rolls his eyes. “Of course not. I meant _flashlight_ , it’s called a flashlight in American. Really Todd, you should know better. I don’t just go about nilly-willy burning things down.”

Todd looks relieved.

Dirk frowns. “Just how insane do you think I am?”

—

It turns out that the nature reserve is huge, and it’s cold. At least it isn’t raining, but neither of them are dressed warmly enough to fend off the late fall chill. If Dirk isn’t imagining things, Todd presses against him for warmth every time they stop moving.

“Does this f-f-f-feel right to you? Like she’s close?”

Dirk frowns. “It doesn’t work like that. It’s more like… I wander around this park, and if the universe wants me to find her here, we’ll spot her in a tree or something.” His frown deepens. “Or more like me, she’ll be hiding in a pile of leaves and I’ll trip over her and there will be screaming and blood and… um. Let’s just keep walking for a bit, shall we?”

Todd doesn’t answer, but huddles a bit closer. “I’m starting to think this was a terrible idea.”

“No, not at all! It’s a lovely night for a stroll. Even if we don’t find Amanda tonight, I’m certain she’ll be pleased when I tell her about all the outside-the-flat things we’ve done. In fact I think I can feel her approval just _thinking_ about. I’m definitely feeling something. Something…”

Todd peers up at him with a wide-eyed, hopeful expression. “Something… Amanda-like?”

“No.” Dirk takes Todd’s arm and steers him around a stump in the middle of the walking path. “No, it feels more… unexpected than that.”

“Not like a night-dwelling, park-loving serial killer, I hope.”

“No, not exactly,” Dirk begins, but then there’s a man standing directly in front of them, teeth bared, eyes gleaming.

Todd and Dirk both scream, clutching each other.

“A fine welcome,” the man says, sharp little teeth forming a wide smile. “Very nice. It’s like to give a man a heart attack, but still, I can’t fault your enthusiasm, lads.”

Dirk slowly untangles himself from his best friend and blinks at the stranger, who turns out to be no stranger at all.

“Mister O’Ryan?” He shines his torch into the man’s face, earning himself a squint-eyed glare. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“The very same thing you’re doing, I imagine,” O’Ryan replies. “Looking for me pot o’ gold! I had a feeling it might be secreted away somewhere here, but alas.” He heaves a dramatic sigh. “Me hunch was a bit misleading, and after hours of searching, I realize I should’a left it to the professionals.” He beams up at Dirk and Todd. “And here you are!”

“Yes, here we are!” Dirk agrees with what he hopes sounds like confident enthusiasm. “Here and ready to search the entire park until we locate your pot! We were just getting started, in fact, and—”

O’Ryan cuts him off with a rude noise. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’ve spent enough time here. Could you perhaps, just… give me a ride back to me shop?”

Todd nudges him with an elbow, and Dirk gives a few exaggerated nods. “Taxi service is one of the things I do best,” he replies, turning about and guiding the pair towards his car.

“Dirk, it’s _this_ way.”

He alters his course by forty-five degrees. “Isn’t it fortunate that my assistant is here, assisting me? We’ll have you home in no time, and in more or less one piece, I promise.”

—

It takes both of them to wrestle O’Ryan into his store, as the man had apparently been doing a lot more drinking than golden-pot-searching at the park. Once inside, he insists that they each have a shot of his homemade whiskey, which Dirk is certain he could use as a cleaning solvent. Even so, by the time he’s had two, everything starts feeling warm and safe and happy.

Todd leans against him and smiles. “We should go,” he offers, his voice low. “One of us has to drive, and I want to get home in case Amanda finds her way back.

Dirk waves off the next round, making sure that O’Ryan is safely seated with no visible dangers nearby. “We’ll be back on the case again tomorrow, and I have a good feeling about tomorrow. Soon, you’ll be reunited with your pot.”

O’Ryan waves his words off with a loopy gesture. “Ehh, well. It’s alright, really. I forgive you for not being able to find it. I’ve been looking for —hic!— decades now, so the odds that you’ll stumble across it tomorrow are…” He trails away with a contented smile as Todd ushers Dirk out the door.

—

Dirk doesn’t think his driving is any worse after a couple of whiskeys, and the liquid courage has the commendable effect of making Todd care a great deal less about things like signs, lights, and other cars. In fact his eyes are closed entirely as Dirk screeches into his parking spot, more or less missing the curb. 

“Is it just me, or was today like a week of normal days?”

Dirk slips his arm around Todd’s shoulders to help him across the street. “Normal? I laugh at the concept. Hysterically, and often. But yes.” He pauses to consider. “I think I woke up about a week ago. Maybe it’s time for a nap.”

Todd is about to say something in response, but opening his front door leaves him drop-jawed and wide-eyed.

“What is it, Todd? Do you see a ghost? The banshee? Let’s—” Before he can formulate a disastrous plan, Dirk spots the source of Todd’s alarm. It’s Amanda, seated on the couch, calmly reading something on her phone.

“Amanda?!” Dirk and Todd exclaim at the same time, in nearly the same tone.

“Yup,” Amanda agrees, not even looking up. “How’s it going?”

Todd dashes across the room to grab Amanda into a smothering hug. She laughs and tries to nudge him away, her eyes wide. “Damn, was leaving the apartment that traumatic?”

Todd looks at her like she’s gone crazy. “You… were missing? We were looking for you, everywhere! I even called the cops!”

“The cops? What the hell, Todd?” Her tone is somewhere between incredulous and amused. “I skip one shift at the Boldened Bean and you’re on the phone with missing persons?”

Todd pulls away, looking a bit embarrassed. “Well, there were… uhm, extenuating circumstances, and you weren’t answering your phone, and I was… worried.”

“There was a banshee,” Dirk adds, trying to help.

Amanda and Todd both blink at him.

“She was doing the screamy-waily thing, which had us both a little alarmed. Although in sight-of-hind, she was probably just a crazy person and we were perhaps over-reacting. Just a tish.”

“Just a tish,” Amanda agrees, her voice dry. “Really guys. I was fine. The other Rowdies and I decided to take an, um, mental health break and go find that missing pot of gold for you.”

“To _steal_ it?” Dirk is aghast. “Todd, I told you this would happen!”

Todd shoots him a look. “Of course Amanda wasn’t there to steal the gold. She was obviously trying to…” He falters and looks at Amanda again.

Amanda rolls her eyes. “Trying to _help you._ So you could be done with this silly case and get on with things. Martin—” she looks at Dirk and quirks a half-smile, “he’s the lead singer of my band, he figured that we could find some stupid pot, fill it with gold stuff from a bunch of thrift stores, and you could call it a day.”

Dirk is speechless.

Todd fills in for him. “But… why? I mean, even if O’Ryan is just a crazy old drunk and there’s no real pot of gold, searching for it still gets me out of your flat, which I thought was one of your goals.”

Amanda shrugs. “Sorta? I mean you getting you out there is great, but I figured the two of you could have just as much fun pursuing… indoor adventures.”

“We were indoors at a lot of places today, but none of it was really much of an adventure,” Dirk informs her. “Aside from finding the maybe-banshee and running into the possible-leprechaun.”

Amanda arches a perfectly-groomed eyebrow.

Todd flushes an alarming shade of blotchy red. “Amanda, I’ve told you, I’m not—”

“—healthy enough for that sort of thing, yeah I know, but honestly… how do you know until you try? Huh? Kind of like leaving this apartment. I take it nothing terrible happened while you were out on your adventures?”

Todd just shakes his head, looking miserable.

Dirk decides that perhaps this is one of those times when he should stay quiet.

Amanda hops to her feet, grinning. “Anyhow. I’m off for our gig — already late, actually, so I’ll leave you guys to it. Oh, and one more thing.” She walks over to a partially-erect table by the door and pulls a box from under it. “This is for you guys. Already getting joint gifts, huh? Cute.”

“What?” Todd recovers enough to find his voice. “It’s addressed to me and Dirk?”

“Naw. There’s nothing on it at all, actually. A girl delivered it about an hour ago, saying that it’s yours. I figured you must know her?” She fixes her eyes on Dirk. “Pretty, messy dreads, not terribly committed to personal hygiene but also sorta cool?”

“Oh yes,” Dirk says. “Our new friend.”

Amanda gives a little finger-wave as she slips out the door. 

Dirk looks down at the box and reads the writing on the top out loud: “‘To Todd and Dirk. From Bart. Your Banshee.’ How fantastic is that, Todd? We have our own banshee!”

“Just what I always wanted. Do you think it’s safe to open?” He approaches cautiously. “It doesn’t seem to be ticking.”

A hard shake produces nothing but a dull thumping sound, so they move to the kitchen and acquire a knife. Todd opens the taped edges carefully, still looking uneasy.

Inside, there’s reams of wadded up newspapers — and a cast-iron pot.

Inside the pot is a treasure trove of golden coins.

“It’s the leprechaun’s pot!” Dirk squeals. “She found it!”

Todd stares at the booty in amazement, then picks up one of the coins with his thumb and forefinger. “Don’t get too excited.” Working carefully, he pulls a sheet of golden foil off his coin, revealing what looks like milk chocolate. 

“Ohhhh.”

Todd inspects the coin for a few more seconds before popping it into his mouth. “Not bad,” he says while chewing. “Not too sweet, not gritty, and it tastes like it’s made with sugar instead of corn syrup.”

“So this isn’t the right pot, is it?”

Todd shrugs. “Well, it’s a pot. And these are golden coins. So… maybe?” He grins. “We’ll take it to your little man tomorrow and see what he thinks. If he’s drunk enough, he might even see this as an upgrade.” He unwraps another coin and holds it up to Dirk’s mouth.

After a second of hesitation, Dirk closes his lips around it, careful not to bite Todd’s fingers.

“You’re right,” he says after swallowing. “That’s good chocolate. I’m going to call this search a success, Todd. Good job on your first successful case!”

Todd gives a smile Dirk can’t quite read. “So is this how your holistic thing works? You just, do stuff, and find things, and at some point you call it good?”

Dirk considers. “Not always,” he admits. “There’s usually a lot more danger, and confusion, and crazy coincidences, and general madness.” He decides he can break the news about blood and death and so forth later.

“Sounds… fun,” Todd says, smiling. “I can’t be anyone’s assistant, but if you want, we can try being friends.” He pauses to unwrap another chocolate coin. “It might be fun.” 

Maybe he should stop right there, while he’s ahead, but the moment just feels right. “And maybe, if the being-friends thing works out, maybe we could…”

Todd gazes at him steadily. “That would make my sister happy.” His voice is just slightly wry.

“And there’s nothing that would please me more than to make Amanda happy!” Dirk says, grinning. “I mean, I owe her. After all, she did give me the best gift I’ve ever been given.”


End file.
